The Birth
by JennyFeather
Summary: Sequel to A Malfoy Marriage, Or Not! and A Malfoy Marriage, No Really! Draco Malfoy is having trouble coping with his wife's impending birth, and Harry and Ron don't make the situation easier.


**Disclaimer: :** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes:** This story is the third (and finaly, I think) part to my series of one - shots featuring Draco and Hermione. You may want to read the other two before reading this one, though it will probably still make sense even if you don't. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Cheers,

Jen

**The Birth.**

Draco paced the sitting room. He rung his hands and smoked two cigars. He drank three tumblers full of firewhiskey, but nothing seemed to abate his unease.

"Oooh!" A sharp cry lanced through the room and Draco let his head fall into his hands, grabbing fistfuls of his own blonde hair.

He was wrong; this was _not_ a good idea.

He couldn't believe that intelligent people did this every day.

"Aaah!"

Draco rose from his favorite chair and pounded fiercely on the door.

"Oi!" He cried. "Isn't there something you c-"

The door sprung open ajar and a harassed looking mediwitch gave him a stern look.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, blocking his view to the bedroom beyond. "I have everything under control. Your wife is-"

"Screaming in pain!" he seethed. "Isn't there anything you can give her!"

"All women have pain while giving birth Mr. Malfoy, I know that this is your first born, but-"

"Don't talk down to _me_!" Draco was turning a luminous shade of pink. "You come into my family home, unannounced-"

"Your wife owled me when she went into labor."

"You throw me out of my own bedroom-" He continued as though he had not heard her.

"Your _wife_ threw you out."

"You have the sheer _nerve_ to speak to me as though-"

"YOU ARE BEHAVING LIKE A SPOILT CHILD! HONESTLY DRACO!"

Hermione's voice rang shrilly through the open door.

"NOW BUGGAR OFF!"

Draco stormed furiously away from the door.

He threw his glass angrily into the fireplace when there was a brilliant flash of green and an indignant "ouch!"

"Hey, watch it!"

Angry, and covered in soot, Harry Potter emerged form the flames. He rubbed a spot on his head tenderly and re-arranged his glasses.

"Potter!" Draco growled.

Harry brushed the ash from his untidy hair.

"Malfoy, is she-"

"Draco, it's so good to see you," said a dreamy voice, for another person had emerged from the fireplace.

Luna Lovegood, dressed in a peasant skirt, was standing in Draco's study, looking as though she had wandered in by mistake.

"Oh, not you," Draco mumbled darkly.

"Watch it Malfoy," Harry warned. "Luna's my wife and-"

"Oh, that's right," Draco drawled. "The two of you tied the noose, didn't you? I suppose it's –"

"You were at the wedding!" Harry said angrily.

"Well it wasn't because I wanted to go. But Hermione-"

The fireplace erupted in green flame again. Heralding, Draco thought scathingly, another of Hermione's good for nothing friends.

He was not disappointed. Out of the hearth, his red hair dark with soot, came Ron Weasley.

"How long have you been here?" He asked, upon seeing Harry and Luna.

"Not long," Potter said, wrapping an arm around Luna's waist.

"Mum's on her way," he said having a seat, not even looking at Draco. "She's having kittens."

"Really?" Luna asked, intrigued. "That happened to my cousin, you know. She had a litter of fourteen before the healers-"

Potter snorted.

"I think Ron meant that she was-"

"Oh god!" Another cry of pain reverberated around the room.

Ron winced and looked away from the door, his focus resting finally on Draco.

"All of this pain she's in, and because of you!" He accused, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"Jealous Weasley?" Draco smirked. "Don't blame me," he said arrogantly. "Just because you couldn't seal the deal…"

Ron turned an angry shade of purple. It was always tense whenever Draco was in the company of his wife's friends, Ron especially.

"Take that back Malfoy!" He ground out.

"Or what?" Draco laughed. "You'll set your ghoul on me?"

Ron gnashed his teeth and reached into his robes, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Draco's forehead.

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY!" Molly Weasley had just stepped out of the fireplace, her cooking apron askew.

Ron dropped his wand immediately, his ears very red.

"HOW DARE YOU HEX DEAR DRACO! HE'S UNDER ENOUGH PRESURE WITH OUT _YOU_ CAUSING TROUBLE!"

Draco grinned triumphantly as Mrs. Weasley turned to retrieve her bag from the fireplace.

"Hello, Draco dear." She said, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about a thing," she soothed. "The fist birth is always the hardest."

Hermione screamed shrilly from beyond the bedroom door.

"Oh, the poor dear," Molly fretted. "I'll go in and see what I can do. And don't you dare draw your wand again Ron!" She scolded, pointing a finger menacingly at her youngest son.

Ron looked darkly at the floor and the bedroom door opened and shut with a snap.

Draco sneered at his "company" and pulled a thin mahogany wand from his own robes.

"Reparo!" He said, pointing it at the fire.

His broken glass repaired itself and flew neatly into his hand, instantly refilling itself.

Draco took a shaky sip.

"SHIT!"

They all jumped.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Draco swore, drinking the entire contents of his glass in one gulp.

Harry and Luna looked uneasily at one another.

"Master!" Said a squeaky voice, for a house elf had just appeared at Draco's elbow. "Mistress has bid Leafy to ask your guests if they would have a glass of wine-"

"Of course she would-"

"And she-she-she-" Leafy stuttered nervously. "She has told Leafy to tell Master that he is to be kind to her friends or-or-or," she gulped. "Or Mistress will name the babe Godric if it's a boy and Dolores if it's a girl."

Ron, Luna, and Harry burst into fits of laughter, though Luna laughed the loudest of all.

Draco scowled darkly.

"Go on then," he snarled at Leafy. "Maybe they'll get smashed and pass out, and then I won't have to suffer their presence."

He looked scathingly from his arm chair over at the three, who had not heard him, but were still laughing at the rebuke he had received from his wife.

"Go on," he said petulantly. "Laugh it up! Have a fantastic time! It's not as though you're here to support my _wife_, the one giving _birth_!"

Their laughter dwindled and they all sat on the sofa, red faced, and giggling.

It was agonizing for Draco to watch them reminisce. So he sat slouched and scowling, with his arms folded in his leather chair.

After an hour had passed, Draco was becoming slightly drunk, and supremely annoyed. It was bad enough that he was forced to endure their company over the holidays, but it was too much that they were present on the most nerve wracking day of his life.

Draco stared into his glass, refusing even to glance at his _guests_, when a loud _pop_ startled him into looking up.

"Blaise!" He said, surprised. "I thought you were in Russia."

Blaise Zammbini removed his cloak and flung it over Ron, who sputtered in indignation.

"I was." Said Blaise, who shook several snow flakes from his wavy brown hair. "But Mother's latest conquest is intolerable."

"Here," he said reaching into the pocket of his robes. "I've brought mead and cigars."

"Fantastic," said Draco, sitting up in his chair. "Sit down Blaise." Draco waved his wand and another identical arm chair appeared next to his.

"As you can see Blaise," Draco sneered at Harry, Ron, and Luna. "You are not my only guest tonight."

Blaise looked despairingly at the trio and coughed lightly.

"Hmm," he said. "If I would have known I would have suggested we go to our gentlemen's club instead." Blaise took a casual sip of mead. "How is your sister anyway Weasley?"

Ron turned beet red.

"Ron," said Harry, throwing Blaise a look of pure loathing. "Don't, he isn't worth it."

But Ron simply shook Harry off, his hand resting on the handle of his wand. But just then there was a piercing wail and seconds later the door opened a crack and Ron hastily shoved his wand back into his robes, lest it be Mrs. Weasley.

The mediwitch stood in the door way and motioned for Draco to come with her.

Draco stood, his legs feeling slightly numb.

"Hermione!" He breathed at the sight of her.

"Draco," she sighed, looking down at a bundle of blankets. "Come and meet our daughter."

Draco sat nervously on the edge of the bed.

He could not remember when he was ever so nervous before.

A small, red-faced newborn was sleeping in the buddle of quilts. Her face was, undeniably, a carbon copy of her mother's. But she had the finest little wisps of white hair on top of her head.

"Ours." He muttered, tracing a finger over the infant's cheek.

"Meredith Clair Malfoy." Hermione said.

Draco looked at her, his expression softening.

"I love you." He whispered, kissing Hermione on the mouth.

"I know, Draco." She said, looking down at Meredith. "I know."

_Finis_


End file.
